


It doesn't matter.

by DemonicInformant



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Abandonment, Concerts, Escape, F/M, M/M, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-10
Updated: 2014-12-10
Packaged: 2018-02-28 22:56:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2750204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemonicInformant/pseuds/DemonicInformant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You can't run away from what's meant to be. <br/>Izaya begs to differ.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It doesn't matter.

**Author's Note:**

> [The song used is Ghost, by Mystery Skulls. I own nothing about Durarara!!, or anything to Mystery Skulls and their spectacular music! Anywho, this is kind of an AU, in which they met in middle school, not high school, and Izaya left due to family shit and bullying and now he's in America, and Shizuo left Japan to come find him again 'cause they were dating and blegh-- Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy!]

_'Cause the world might do me in_  
 _It's alright cause I'm with friends  
_  
How was he conned into coming here? How was he dragged from his warm,  _quiet_ ,  _empty_ apartment to a loud, obnoxious,  _ridiculous_ _concert_  of all things? And as, as far as he was concerned, a third wheel no less? Honestly, the last thing he wanted was to watch Shinra and Celty act like two lovebirds, despite how well they fit and completed one another, while that  _dreadful_ music played and nearly destroyed his eardrums the more he stood idly in the blaring crowd.  
  
 _'Cause I'm giving up again_  
 _It doesn't matter  
_  
So yes, he quietly moved outside, rather  certain the couple wouldn't notice his disappearance. Honestly, they were in their own little world, and he wanted no part of it. Hell, he was barely involved in it to begin with. Once out of the immediate drowning music, he quietly leaned against the wall beside the admittance door, his wristband - which would give him entrance into the concert should he choose to join the couple again - sliding down his thin wrist and perching itself above the lower half of his palm. He lazily glanced at it, observed its orange coloring, it's single sharpie marking - they'd mark it each time you entered to make sure you weren't abusing the privilege - and the number stamped beside the marking.  **4893**.   
  
 _And I'm feeling like a ghost_  
 _And it's what I hate the most  
_  
He was number  **4893**. Well, it was nice  to know he was a simple number to these people, to this place. Number  **4893**.   
"Oh, did you hear about number  **4893**?"   
"Oh, of course, the man hated in an entire city in Tokyo."   
"The man who moved across the sea to escape torment brought on thanks to his family."  
"The man who ran away from his sisters to be happy."  
"The coward who could laugh."  
  
 _'Cause I'm giving up again_  
 _And this time_  
 _This time I might just disappear_  
 _This time I might just dis  
_  
A sharp scowl took over his - as his youngest sister - they were both twins - would describe them - feline-ish features and he scoffed at the memory, at the terrible ''nickname'', at his unwelcoming past, and at the fact that many of those ill-spoken mental rumors  _were_ true. Honestly, what if he was never born? Would this never have been an issue? Would he never have escaped during middle school and been subject to rumors and taunts because gossip spread like wildfire whenever it damn well pleased? Well, he would never know. "What-if"'s were useless in life. Even if the majority of his ''What-if'''s were centered around his non-existence, around his chosen disappearance, around his essential question of never being alive, he didn't care.  
  
 _Try and hear me then I'm done_  
 _'Cause I might just say this once_  
  
The door he'd left from made a distinct squeak against its hinges, and as badly as he wanted to deny hearing it, he knew he had. Even over the drowning music. As badly as he wished it didn't make him  _want_ to look, it did. And damn it all. He desperately fought that insistent urge to turn his head, to see the source of that creaking door, but even urges needed to be sated. So he glanced over and damn his curiosity.   
  
 _Seen this played out in my dream_  
 _It doesn't matter_  
  
Handsome. That was the only word running through his mind as he glanced at the blonde digging in his jacket pocket for what he only assumed was a lighter. And what an accurate assumption it was, as there was a small white stick protruding from between his lips. He watched the other bite down on the filter of the cigarette and curse and his mind went into overdrive then. He sunk a hand into his jean's pocket and pulled a small Ed Hardy Koi lighter from its depths, only to hand it over with a small clear of his throat.  
  
"I don't use it often enough for it to be useful to me. Keep it."  
  
He got a grunt in response, and honestly, he didn't mind it one bit. Something  about the others silence was...welcomed. He didn't feel pressured, he didn't feel struck to start a conversation, he didn't  _need_ to be social out here, and it was like heaven to his stressed mind. But something...something about this man, this blonde, struck him. He knew this man, and he felt the other knew him. It was like goddamn déjà vu.  
  
 _Time for givin' up the ghost_  
 _Fuck, it's you I hate the most  
_  
It was silent, the entire conversation. Nothing but the quiet beat playing behind them as they band's music pounded against the concrete walls, struggling to get free, to make itself known like some sentient being trapped for life's entirety. It was soothing, quite honestly. He began to forget his worries, his strife, his trouble in general. He began to truly relax as the walls vibrated oh so lightly...but a warm, chocolaty,  _deep_ voice sounded in the vibrating silence and his blood red eyes slid open to greet the others gaze to his right.   
  
"Hm?"  
  
"Why'd you leave?"  
  
His eyes widened, his heart raced, and everything pounded like the music against the walls inside. Pieces began putting themselves in place, memories began revealing themselves in his mind, words, promises, hatred, love, horror, laughter,  _murder_ all played through his mind at that simple inquiry, and as badly as he wanted to deny knowing the other, as badly as he wanted to assume innocence, he couldn't. Not anymore. Not after his brain clicked that last puzzle piece into place and he recognized the other as though they'd never been apart.  
  
"...Shizu-Chan."  
  
"Why'd you leave, Izaya?"  
  
 _And there is no guarantee_  
 _It doesn't matter_  
  
"I didn't leave because I wanted to!"  
  
" _Why_  did you leave?"  
  
"I had to escape it!"  
  
"Me?"  
  
"...Everything! I had to leave! I had to let everything...everything..."  
  
"Why didn't you tell me?"  
  
"And have you stop me?"  
  
"I would've joined you, you know."  
  
"And now you've come to visit, to tell me I was stupid, that I...I gave up some big chance of a lifetime, right?!"  
  
"I came to stay. I moved here. To find you."  
  
Ah, that warm silence. An argument so unhappily thanked to join the silence had ended, and again, silence took its rightful place between them. And now there were warm gazes, locked stares, shaky breaths, faint sobs, warm embraces, whispers of promises made long ago, and as much as the raven denied it being present in that moment, love was hanging above the two like a cloud.   
  
 _This time I might just disappear_  
 _This time I might just dis_  
 _This time I might just disappear_  
 _This time I might just dis_  
  
The concert had ended long after they'd departed. The couple inside had left without a second thought on the raven. The band had continued on to their next destination. The stage and seats were cleaned to their original state once everyone had left. The cleaning staff had returned home. The security had returned home. The vendors inside had returned home. Everyone had returned home.   
 **  
**Even the newly rejoined couple had returned home.  
 ****  
For they found one another again that night, and home rests where the heart rests.


End file.
